


Living Proof

by paradiamond



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Getting Together, Season 2 AU, bed sharing, no Hiram, no evil (?) Hermione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 13:20:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12771924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradiamond/pseuds/paradiamond
Summary: Cheryl had been all but living at Veronica’s since she burned down Thornhill.





	Living Proof

Veronica rolled over in bed, squinting over at her window which was traitorously letting the sun in and onto her face. She must have forgotten pull the curtains again. Groaning softly, she flipped over onto her back, trying to decide if she should go back to sleep or just give in to nature. But, as was becoming the norm, Cheryl decided for her. 

A light knock on her bedroom door, soft enough for a show of politeness but still probably loud enough to wake her up. Veronica rolled her eyes. “Yes?” 

The door opened wide, Cheryl’s bright eyes peering over at her for just a split second before she all but danced into the room and dropped onto her bed. “Morning!” 

Veronica squinted up at her. “Barely.” 

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “It’s eight am.” 

“On a Sunday,” Veronica shot back, sitting up. “Day of rest.” 

“No rest for the wicked!” Cheryl chirped and then jumped back up. “I want pancakes, you?” 

Veronica rubbed at her eyes. “Pops? Or do we have mix?” 

Cheryl appeared back in the doorway, frowning. Veronica smirked at her. “Didn’t think of that?” 

“A momentary lapse. It’s early.” 

Veronica laughed. “Ok so _now_ it’s early?” she teased, noticing for the first time that Cheryl was fully dressed. Maybe she had gone home and come back. It seemed unlikely though, not when she jumped at every opportunity to stay over at Veronica’s. 

Cheryl just rolled her eyes again and went back into the main room. “Pops!”

Veronica shook her head and rolled out of bed, setting about getting ready. She wondered, absently, if she should bother texting the others and then decided against it. Either they would be there or they wouldn’t, and the rest of the town seemed to have adjusted to the change in window dressing, albeit silently. 

No one really brought it up, just like they didn’t mention Cheryl’s sudden prominence in the group, like she had stepped in where Jughead had apparently stepped out. Of course it was all much more complicated than that on the inside, but on the surface, Veronica suspected that it seemed like she and Cheryl had become best friends overnight, leaning in where others stepped away. 

Apparent new best friends, and co-captains too, as per Veronica’s insistent request. Possibly a mistake, Veronica thought as she hauled herself out of bed to get dressed. But she was all about accepting her mistakes now. 

Cheryl had rolled her eyes when Veronica suggested it, curled up in her bathrobe on her mother’s couch, some vapid romcom on in the background for the third night is a row. It was clear, even then, that she didn’t like to go home. 

“Don't be ridiculous. You dethroned me fair and square.”

Veronica propped her chin up on her palm. “Ok A, don't say fair and square ever again, and B, I am a benevolent queen who recognizes that long term stability is more important than a momentary victory.”

Cheryl gave her a withering look. “You just want me to have it back so I have something to live for.”

Veronica blinked at her, ignoring the way her heart pounded at the mention of the incident that would not be named. “Is that not a good enough reason? I want you to be happy, Cheryl.”

Cheryl obviously didn’t know what to do with that, but she started showing up for Vixens again and frequently brought over plans for future routines. Now that it was winter break, their time together had only increased, as had the elaborate nature of the cheerleading routines. 

Veronica wandered out into the living room and paused, watching as Cheryl ironed out her Vixens uniform, each pass of the iron precise. Though Cheryl came and went, the uniform stayed, probably so her mother wouldn’t throw it out of revenge for the house. More and more of Cheryl’s things had been migrating to Veronica’s room lately. 

“I’m surprised you know how to do that.” 

Cheryl glanced up, her face oddly still, then smirked and looked back down. “I’m willing to do a lot for the sake of perfection.” 

“Apparently so. I hate to say I’m impressed by such a simple thing but-” 

“Then don’t,” Cheryl said shortly, some of her signature venom coming through at the seams. 

Veronica frowned, tipping back over to the other side of pleased and annoyed at Cheryl’s presence in a snap. “Well-” 

“Girls,” her mother called as she breezed into the room. “I’m off. Do you need anything while I’m out?” 

Cheryl straightened up, a hundred watt smile on her face. “No, thanks Mrs. Lodge!” 

Hermione plastered on a pleasant smile, though it didn’t quite hit her eyes. “Alright.” 

As the door closed behind her, Cheryl deflated and turned to Veronica with a mournful look. “Why doesn’t she like me? I’m a good influence on you.” 

Veronica laughed. “Is that what you are? And don’t worry, she likes you just fine. She’s just worried about my dad.” 

In truth, Hermione had put up with Cheryl’s appearance in their life with more and more grace since that disastrous first night, likely because Cheryl acted as buffer from everything else. If they always had a guest then everyone needed to behave and everything was fine. She had done the same thing with Polly. 

“Oh,” Cheryl hooked one hand on her hip. “That makes sense.” 

“To you, maybe,” Veronica perched on the armrest of the couch. “To most people it would be crazy.” 

Cheryl didn’t appear to take offense. “We are more aware than most people.” 

Veronica arched an eyebrow at her. “Did you just refer to yourself with the royal ‘we’?” 

Cheryl blinked. “No. I meant us. You and me, Veronica.” 

***

Christmas break had brought a blanket of snow and a kind of nesting instinct, urging them inside, away from the ice and snow. It was an urge Veronica was more than eager to follow. After what happened at the river, she doubted she’d ever go there again, and certainly not when it was cold. 

Regardless, they kept themselves as happy and as busy as they could, and it worked. It was like they were living in a bubble. Archie was obviously preoccupied with his father, so he and Veronica were together only in name. Whenever she tried to get close to him he pushed her away, so fine, she had other stuff to do. 

But then Betty was caught up in her secret brother drama and her now Serpent boyfriend. And Kevin was on lockdown, since apparently a public shooting had been the straw that broke the Sheriff's back. At the very least, he picked up the phone when she called, but did so less and less as they ran out of things to talk about. 

So Veronica was on the edges with Cheryl, who slid into her life so smoothly Veronica couldn't help but be impressed. It was like all of a sudden, she looked up and realized that they spent nearly all their time together. 

If she hadn’t slept at her place the night before, Cheryl would usually show up sometime between ten am and noon, coming in with some excuse and blithely ignoring any lingering Lodge drama. For all her issues, Cheryl more than understood a fucked up family situation, which Veronica couldn’t help but appreciate. Veronica’s place was obviously an escape for her, but Cheryl was like a purifying agent. Chasing out the ghosts. 

“Vee dearest, do you own skies?” Cheryl asked, pawing through her mother’s CD collection in the next room as Veronica got everything set up again in the bathroom. 

Veronica rolled her eyes and pointedly ignored the question. “You can call me Ronnie, you know. And sit down, I’m ready for you.”

Cheryl wrinkled her nose but did what she was told, coming back into the bathroom in her embroidered robe, her face clean of all makeup except for her signature red lips. “And yet I won't. Please don't call me Cher, or anything worse.”

Veronica huffed and moved Cheryl where she wanted her, sweeping her wet hair over the back of the chair. “I would never.” 

“Good,” Cheryl said, visibly pleased, and tipped her head back a bit to give Veronica better access. They lapsed into comfortable silence as Veronica arranged towels and bottles and got to work. 

“You're father sent my father to jail,” Veronica commented, offhand, as she worked the deep conditioner into Cheryl's hair. Her own was already wrapped up tight in plastic wrap. Cheryl hummed. 

“That does sound like daddy.” 

Veronica rolled her eyes, her three selves in the mirrors copying her. “God, what a mess.”

“Such is life,” Cheryl mused, picking at the skin around her nails. “It's best we learn now, I guess.”

Veronica pursed her lips and then shook her head. “We shouldn't have to at all.”

“But we do,” Cheryl insisted, looking up to meet Veronica’s eyes in the mirror. “Women have to learn to protect themselves, and each other. Or else.”

Veronica rocked back on her heels, a familiar fear creeping up her back. “Do you think we'll ever do those things? The things they did?”

Cheryl tipped her head back further, her hair so long it brushed the floor. She stared up at Veronia, upside down. It should be funny, but the weight in her eyes made that impossible. “We already have.”

Veronica stared down at her, her hands still buried in all that burnt orange, Cheryl signature. “You more than me.”

“But of course.”

Veronica could tighten her hands in her hair to the point of pain. She could rip it out, the Blossom badge of honor. She leaned down instead, pressed her lip against Cheryl’s, upside down. Cheryl didn’t make a sound, and she never moved her hands from where they crossed primly on her thighs, but she arched her neck, and kissed her back, mouth closed, all lips and soft movement. 

It went on for what felt like a long time. When she pulled away, face flushed and heart pounding, Veronica set her hands on the back of the chair and stared down at her again. Cheryl watched her right back. She looked the same. Then Cheryl frowned and reached up and behind, her fingers brushing over Veronica’s lips. “That's a bad color on you.”

Veronica scowled, then she laughed. 

They finished Cheryl’ hair, all wrapped up in the rest of the remaining plastic to contain the sheer volume of it, and went to bed, curled up like little kids, one leg hooked over the other, fingers laced together. 

***

Veronica sighed as she woke up, cracking one eye open to see Cheryl sitting up and leaning forward over her phone. She glanced left and remembered that they’d pulled the curtains when the bad storm first hit, since the sun and moon both reflected off it and made it hard to sleep. “News?” 

“No, still stuck in the snowpocalypse,” Cheryl said, and then blushed. “Their words, not mine.” 

Veronica smirked and sat up, bringing them face to face. Cheryl didn’t lean away, and the dark circles under her eyes were even more evident at the even angle. The more they slept in the same bed, the more obvious it was that Chery just didn’t sleep very much. 

“Your mom’s not here.” 

Veronica rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Again.” 

Cheryl smirked. “She’s probably stuck, wherever she is.” 

“You know where she is,” Veronica grumbled. In the past month, Veronica’s mom had thrown herself back into her ill-advised relationship with Fred Andrew’s, something Veronica would have felt compelled to tell Archie if she ever saw him. As it was, they weren’t together enough anymore for it to have a chance to be awkward. 

“She’s probably hiding upstairs while they eat,” Cheryl said, visibly delighted at the prospect. 

“That would be punishment enough, as far as I’m concerned,” Veronica huffed. “But I’m sure she’s not. They would have come up with something.” 

“Poor Archiekins. So pretty and so, so dumb.” 

“He’s not actually-”

“I know. Kidding.” 

Veronica reached for her phone, ignoring the way Cheryl reached for it at the same time. “No you’re not.” 

But Cheryl wasn’t reaching for the phone at all, but for Veronica, for her elbow, her wrist. Up and around, to the back of her neck. They’d been sleeping in the same bed for a while, but still Veronica is almost surprised, even though they had kissed, and not just once. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Cheryl raised a delicately shaped eyebrow at her, all mischief and underlying unease. Veronica is really her only friend. She’s her only anchor, her only one, and Cheryl risked dropping it into the sea without a rope. She did it all the time. 

Veronica leaned in, pulling Cheryl with her. “You’re brave.” 

Cheryl wrinkled her nose, a private expression. “What?” 

“I didn’t know this is what you meant,” Veronica murmured, too nervous to talk any louder. She traced her fingers along the fine lines of Cheryl’s face. “You could have just left it alone and stayed like this.” 

Cheryl giggled, and then sighed when Veronica pressed a kiss to the underside of her jaw. “Was inviting you into my bed too subtle? Really Veronica, who has a sleepover with only two people?”

“I guess so,” Veronica said, slowly, and did it again before kissing her on the lips. 

They sat up together, leaning in like two sun confused flowers, getting tangled right away. Veronica reached for the drawstring of her pants at the same time that Cheryl grabbed at the hem of her shirt, working at cross purposes. Cheryl’s hair was everywhere, and she broke away to push it back with a scowl. Veronica smirked. “The price of beauty.” 

“I want a discount,” Cheryl muttered, then winced. “Ugh.” 

Veronica giggled. “That was terrible, don’t-”

Cheryl all but tackled her, excitement and light hearted embarrassment all in one. They rolled once, then again, Cheryl ending up on top and looking far too proud of it. Veronica wiggled beneath her, all her skin tingling, and Cheryl pulled back, making space between them so they could shed their clothes. 

Cheryl demanded eye contact when she slid her fingers inside of her, two of them, all the way. Veronica whimpered, certainly no virgin, but overwhelmed by the rest. The way Cheryl looked at her, and leaned in to kiss at her neck before raising her head again to make sure she still had her eyes open. 

It was clear that Cheryl had done this before, and probably just as obvious that Veronica hadn’t. 

When Veronica reached for her, fingers sliding down and across, Cheryl caught her hand and pulled it back up, eying it critically. Veronica shrunk back, trying and failing not to feel a sting of rejection. “What?”

“Are you trying to tear me up?” Cheryl asked, like she was teasing, and held up her free hand, the one not slowly massaging her, on pause but not stopped. Veronica squinted at it, and noticed for the first time that her nails were done, but they were also blunt short. She blushed. 

“How long?” 

Cheryl just shrugged and licked a stripe up her neck. “A while. Point being, you’re not getting in here with those claws.” 

She rocked her hips against Veronica’s leg, still moving her fingers in slow circles, buried deep inside her. Veronica had never been a G-spot girl, but the constant stimulation was starting to change her mind. It was a different sort of pleasure than when some boy rubbed at her clit, more fleeting, but deeper somehow. No electricity, but the long pull of water, fundamental and slow. She whined in the back of her throat. 

“I- what were we talking about?”

Cheryl giggled, and leaned in, reaching deeper, and keeping the eye contact steady. No moving away. Veronica whined again, rolling her hips to match her as she started to move her thumb, not quite hitting her clit right. But just enough. Veronica’s stomach muscles shook. 

“Come on,” Cheryl murmured, stroking rather than circling. “Come now.” 

Veronica didn’t, not right away, and not in the way she was used to with a sharp twist and a cry. She shuddered, and stiffened and wondered what it was. Cheryl leaned down and all but breathed her breath, strange as it was, and then took her hand away. 

Veronica shook for a few minutes more, feeling it deep in muscles she hadn’t known she’d had before, satisfied and intrigued. Not to mention, with some insight into how she assumed Cheryl liked it. 

She reached up and played with Cheryl’s hair. “If I can’t touch you, can I kiss you?” 

Cheryl made a face. “Is that a euphemism?” 

“Yes.” 

That got her and eye roll, but also a real roll as Cheryl shifted off of her and onto her back, stripping off her pants. Veronica stared, a little put off by the mood before she covered for it and slid on top of her, taking the moment to run her hands along Cheryl’s smooth sides, trying to make her shiver. 

It worked, a bit. Licking her nipple worked better. Gently biting worked the best. 

She licked and kissed her way down Cheryl's chest and stomach, stopping in between her legs. No underwear, no hair. She pressed a kiss to her inner thigh and tried not to feel intimidated, but the disgust she’d briefly worried about didn’t appear. The scent was good. 

“Scared?” 

Veronica didn’t dignify it with a response, too focused on parting her with two fingers and giving an experimental lick. Gratifyingly, Cheryl jolted. Veronica smiled. She'd never done it, but she'd had it done to her, and well. 

Cheryl seemed more charmed than anything else. “You're not very good at this.” 

Veronica tightened her grip on Cheryl’s thigh. She should have known that she didn’t like to lose, but maybe that was why she said it. She circled her clit with her thumb and bit lightly at Cheryl's inner thigh before looking back up. “Guess I'll have to practice.” 

Cheryl turned pink all the way from her cheekbones to her heaving chest. 

***

The roads had been cleared, the snow brushed away and packed into small mountains, and they still didn’t leave the apartment, content to play house for a while longer. Sex, food, movies, sleeping. There was nothing outside to tempt them, just a city under the dominion of ice and cold and people that had hardly noticed their absence. In the quiet moments, it made Cheryl somewhat subdued. Silent, reflective. It had the opposite effect on Veronica.

“Cheryl, I need the frosting,” Veronica called out, not looking up from her newest creation. 

They were baking, making traditional christmas cookies, much to Cheryl’s vocal and completely insincere chagrin. 

“What’s the point?” she asked, for the third time. “It’s not like we’ll eat them. We still have to be thin for January.” 

“We’ll each have at least one,” Veronica said, her patience admirable as ever. “I’ll leave some for my mom to take to make her popular.”

“Brown nosing.”

“Hush. And then we give the rest to Smithers. Unless you need some for…” 

They lapsed into silence. Cheryl, bizarrely, didn’t have any kind of comeback or even a subject change. She seemed almost sad, contemplative. 

Veronica blinked, and abruptly realized what was going on. She straightened up and turned, still clutching the frosting pouch in two hands. Cheryl had shifted her attention to the earliest test cookies, pushing them around before sweeping them all into the trash. Veronica cleared her throat. “Cheryl, when was the last time you were home?”

“When I burned it,” Cheryl said, without looking up. 

“With your mom then, wherever you’re staying.”

“When I burned it down,” Cheryl said again, a line appearing between her eyebrows. She still wouldn’t look up from the counter. 

Veronica blinked. “What?”

“What?” Cheryl imitated, an ugly look coming over her beautiful face. “You know what. I don’t know where she is. She left.”

Veronica looked up at the ceiling, counting to ten for patience. “Ok. What you’re saying is, she left you here.”

“Obviously.”

“So you’ve been...couch surfing?”

Cheryl made a sound like a cross between a growl and a scream and abruptly threw the glass she’d been drinking from across the room. It hit the floor and shattered. “I’ve been staying with friends!” 

“And you’ll continue to do so,” Hermione said, from the door. They both whirled, Cheryl with her hands up. Hermione stepped over the broken glass with hardly a glance, her heels clicking against the tile. “You’ll stay with us, Cheryl. I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

Cheryl’s bottom lip quivered. “Thank you,” she managed, the picture of politeness despite her recent fit of destruction. Then she burst into tears. 

Hermione came forward and took her into a hug, holding her up, rubbing her back. “Shh,” she held the back of her head. “We women need to stick together.”

“That’s what I keep saying!” Cheryl wailed, and buried her face in Hermione’s neck, sobbing. Huge heaving shudders that gradually subsided to a terrible shaking. 

Veronica stayed back, giving her space. Savvy enough to see that right then she needed a mother, not a friend, not a lover. 

Her turn came later, in bed that night. “Well, I guess it’s the perpetual sleepover then.”

Veronica smirked, then she tilted her head. “So did you...save some of your clothes before you burned the house?”

Cheryl laughed, her eyes dry. “No, I’m not that crazy.”

“Well I think that would be more pragmatic than anything else.”

“Maybe.” Cheryl tilted her head. “But no, I have Daddy’s credit card.”

“Your mom let you keep it?”

Cheryl snorted, which was decidedly not a sound Veronica had ever heard from her before. “No. I’m sure it just didn’t occur to her. She thinks I’m helpless anyway, that I can’t do anything on my own.”

Veronica wrapped an arm around her shoulders and Cheryl immediately settled in, as though she had always belonged there. “You’ll figure it out.”

“Oh, I already have.”

Veronica leaned back so she could see her face, eyebrows raised. 

“Yes,” Cheryl said, with perfect confidence. “I’m going to let one of my repulsive relatives buy my non-interference in Blossom Industries for the low price of one college education and living stipend. Then I’ll work my way into becoming the it-girl in whatever city I’m in, probably New York but maybe LA or Boston if I’m desperate, eventually using my power to gain a few coveted internships, working my way up the ladder of local news and such and leading up to a position as one of our nation’s top news anchors. Then they’ll see me,” she said, and sipped her hot chocolate. “There will be book deals, and my own morning show, but that’s all very far off.”

Veronica stared. “You know Cheryl, I don’t doubt it.”

“Good.” Cheryl shot her a smile. “That’s because you’re learning.”

Veronica laughed and pushed at her shoulder, causing much screaming about hot drinks and beds and proper behavior. Cheryl made then both freeze so she could set her drink down before throwing herself bodily at Veronica, suddenly so much like a child that it made her heart sing to see it. Just a girl. 

A strong girl though, with a solid decade of dance and gymnastics under her belt. She pinned Veronica flat, a grin on her face and her hair everywhere, a rose curtain hanging around her. “But guess what?”

Veronica squirmed a bit, and laced her fingers with hers. “What?”

“I’m-”

“You’re learning too. I know.”

Cheryl turned red. 

***

School was really the last thing they needed. But it came anyway. 

Veronica smiled a lot. She ate with Betty and Archie, who were both distracted, and had class with Kevin, who was jarringly normal, his performance near flawless. The Vixens were a good distraction, even though Betty dropped out to focus on other things, like her long lost brother, erstwhile boyfriend, and very pregnant sister. Veronica couldn’t blame her. But she wouldn’t quit. The Vixens were a good thing. They were focused and physical. She had Cheryl. 

“Ok girls,” Veronica clapped her hands. “Two pyramids and then groups. B team over here with me for drills and A with Cheryl for choreo. Then switch. Let’s go!” 

A flurry of flipped ponytails and fluttering skirts. They ran to their different sides as Cheryl paced behind them, watching. She looked like a big cat, her hair streaming down her back. Veronica stared for a moment too long, neglecting her duties until Cheryl glanced over and narrowed her eyes, startling her back into action. 

They drilled and danced and did it again. Veronica’s muscles ached, the burn running from her shoulders to her calves. She and Cheryl demonstrated the new routine, dozens of eyes watching and not really seeing them at all. But they saw each other. 

Cheryl rolled her back and then popped her shoulders, her hips swinging in the opposite direction from her hands. Veronica copied her, adding in a slight drop that had Cheryl following the smooth motion of her spine. Sweat rolled down her back. They looked away. 

For cool down, Cheryl was always her stretching partner. She put the flat of her hand right between Veronica’s shoulder blades and pushed, gently at first and then harder. Veronica breathed, letting herself melt, feeling the resistance in her inner thighs, lessening in gradual increments. Day by day. Veronica breathed in again, and sat up.

“Alright, switch!” 

The Vixens were the best. She got to support and be supported. Neither of them were the weak one because they were both falling apart but holding up so well. 

Once, and only once, they both took their time after practice, watching each other out of the corner of their eyes, going slow in getting dressed and putting things away. The chatter of the other girls faded away, muted against the slam of metal on metal. Veronica flipped her hair again, fluffing it out, and Cheryl’s hand landed on her shoulder. 

“Well, well.” 

Veronica rolled her eyes. “Wow would you look at-” She sucked in a sharp breath as Cheryl’s hand slid from the ball of her shoulder to her waist, and then forward, into her skirt. “Cheryl.” 

“Veronica,” Cheryl all but purred into her ear. It should have been ridiculous. 

She shivered as Cheryl toyed with the band of her underwear, plain, grey and utilitarian with a wide band that would make a satisfying snap, and caught her wrist in a tight circle. “Here?” 

Cheryl’s other hand cupped her breast through her shirt. “Depends on how bad you’re feeling. Unless you’re too-”

“Smart,” Veronica cut her and off spun, keeping her wrist in her hand, but stepped forward to bring them flush together. Cheryl smiled, all teeth. 

“I’m smart.” 

“God forbid you ever show it.” 

“Well that wouldn’t be shrewd,” Veronica responded coyly, then giggled when Veronica kissed her right where her jaw met her neck, her eyes fixed on the door. “Tease.” 

“You’re one to talk.” 

Cheryl arched one perfect eyebrow at her. “Am I? What does Princess New York want then?” 

It was weird, this game, a bit like a kids game but so much deeper. Veronica felt it in her bones. They deserved it, the chance to play, to be girls instead of steel plated women for once. 

Veronica wiggled her eyebrows, cartoonish and a little high from work out adrenaline and the smell of Cheryl’s body spray. “Ideally? I want you to get on your knees and eat me out.” 

The corner of Cheryl’s mouth quirked. Then they both laughed. Cheryl stopped first, a speculative look in her eyes. 

Veronica shifted her weight, still caught in the circle of Cheryl’s arms, and suddenly very hot. “Would you?” 

The sharp look Veronica was getting used to seeing crept into Cheryl’s expression, and she leaned her weight against her, a gradually increasing pressure. 

“Lean back against the lockers.” 

It was good. 

Still, sometimes when the sun came up Veronica stayed down. 

Her father would be back sooner rather than later, it seemed. Getting dressed was hard. One Thursday, Cheryl caught her staring aimlessly into her closet and pulled out an outfit for her. “Here, give me your arms.” 

She dressed her with quick, economical movements, and Veronica let herself be moved around like a doll. 

“What you're going to do after school is pull all you school appropriate outfits, hang them in your closet and just wear them in order. You don't have to think.” 

Veronica blinked at her. Cheryl turned her by the arm to zip up her dress. Then she smoothed her hands over Veronica’s shoulders, soothing her like a cat, like a wounded thing. Veronica stared at her window, numbly angry. It was such a sad, pragmatic strategy. 

Cheryl did her makeup too, and they were both very late to school. 

***

Seeing Archie on the other side of the door was such a shock Veronica didn’t know what to say. Instead, she just blinked like she'd never seen him before. 

Archie stuck his hands in his pockets. “Hey, Veronica.” 

“Hi, Archie.” 

“Hello, Cheryl,” said Cheryl, from her perch on the window seat, and they both turned to look at her, which was obviously the point. 

She held a book over the bottom half of her face. Beloved, for English class. Veronica sent Cheryl a dry look over it before turning back to Archie. They both knew that she was only pretending to read it, that she would make Veronica explain it to her later because she ‘liked the way she tells stories.’ 

Veronica smirked and looked away, back to Archie, who hadn’t moved. Archie eyed Veronica meaningfully, but she just stared back at him, unwilling to bend. Injured father or not, he had blown her off. “Uh, so, can we sit?” 

“Sure.” 

Veronica swept her arm towards the couch, watching him watch her as they sat down, Archie with his elbows braced on his knees, Veronica with her legs crossed primly and her hands folded. 

In what should probably have been a completely unsurprising move, Cheryl set herself down on her other side, the move both obvious and effective. 

Who do you feel more right next to Veronica? Who is better? Who should you chose? It would be annoying if it weren't so clarifying, if she didn't want to pull Cheryl up and tease her for it, then bundle her back into her room.

It was clear that Archie felt it too, even if he didn't know what it was. He bounced his leg, his animal hindbrain acting up, making him fidget. “It’s been a while.” 

Veronica fought the urge to frown. “I guess so. I’ve been pretty busy too.” 

“Yeah,” Archie agreed, obviously trying to come with something, anything, that he knew she’d been doing for the past few months. “Cheerleading.” 

“Lucky guess,” Cheryl said, so dryly it made Veronica’s eyes widen. She was brilliant, and so _brutal_. 

Archie scowled, but pointedly ignored her, keeping his face turned to Veronica’s. “Do you want to catch up or something? A bunch of us are going to Pop’s.” 

Despite how annoyed she was with him, with all of them, Veronica’s heart clenched. “Oh? Who?’

Archie grinned, his ridiculous face lighting up in that way that got her in so much trouble the first time, and none at all when all was said and done. A dead end. “Everyone. Betty and Jughead.” 

Veronica smiled and felt Cheryl freeze, all tense and waiting. 

“Sure,” she said brightly, then pointedly turned to Cheryl. “Are you coming?”

The corners of Cheryl’s mouth turned up slightly, but she demurred. “I'm not sure I have the time.”

Veronica smiled back, all teeth. “I want you to.”

Deliberate. Cheryl tipped her head. “Well, I suppose.”

“Uh-” Archie had at some point stood and vacated to the door, escape instinct firing. “I'm not sure.”

Veronica blinked over at him, the picture of innocence. “Cheryl is non-negotiable.” 

Next to her Cheryl sucking in a sharp breath, clearly recognizing the intentional reference to their first game. Betty and I come as a matching set. Veronica smirked. Maybe she should kiss Cheryl in public too. 

Archie slumped, his eyes wide and fixed on a point above Veronica’s shoulder. “Ok, that’s fine.” 

Veronica stood up. “Great. Cheryl let’s- oh.”

Cheryl had her face in her hands. 

Archie made a panicked noise. “Oh my god.”

Veronica turned on him, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Go.”

Archie blinked. “What?”

“Go!”

He went. 

Veronica watched the door close and then kneeled down in front of Cheryl, her hands on her knees. “Hey.”

Cheryl shook her head, so Veronica set her hand on her hip, rubbing in circles, ignoring the way her throat started to close up in sympathy. “Hey.” 

Abruptly, Cheryl straightened up, her eyes red rimmed but just on this side of still dry. “God why do I always-”

“It's ok.”

Cheryl’s bottom lip quivered. 

“It's ok,” Veronica said, rolling up to press their foreheads together. “I know.”

“I know you do,” Cheryl whispered, and leaned down to kiss her. 

Veronica tipped her head back, lining them up, and kissed her back.

**Author's Note:**

> Veronica: “You’re rich, so you’ve never been held accountable, but I’m living proof. That certainty, that entitlement, you wear on your head like a crown? It won’t last. Eventually, there will be a reckoning. Or, maybe that reckoning is now. And maybe that reckoning, is me."
> 
> follow me at paradiamond.tumblr.com (:


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